“If you don’t want to make the news, just don’t do it.”
Photo of Carl Rudolph Gray,
courtesy Florida State Archives. He served in
the Florida State Senate representing the
25th district from 1945 until the 1948 term.
That’s the way legendary Panama City newsman Carl Gray would sign off his daily radio newscast. Gray reached icon status long before I had the pleasure of working with him in 1973.
He was a former Florida Senator and the former Mayor of Panama City. The beautiful waterfront park on the north side of Gulf Coast College is named after him, but he may be most famous for his daily news and “views of the news” on WDLP radio; at least with my generation.
At the end of this article, you will find links to two audio files. One is Carl’s famous slogan clipped from a promotional spot. The other is a joke about Carl from one of his co-workers at WDLP, Alan Dean, who was also a local radio legend. Alan sent me the two files for this article.
When he was the news director at the local top 40 AM radio station, I was hired by the programming director to read the news every morning. I was barely out of high school. Carl had his own show in the afternoon. I generally worked from 6:00 AM to 8:00 AM then I would head to Gulf Coast Community College where I was enrolled as a student.
I was working at the station one Saturday morning when he came in with a breaking news story about two young adults killed on Deer Point Lake in a boating accident. This was big news and Carl had been to the scene and had talked with an eyewitness.
He went to his small booth and typed the story. When he finished, he told the programming director (I can’t remember his name) that he wanted to go LIVE with the report. The program director told him to give me the copy (story) and let me read it.
Carl turned and looked at me where I was seated across the room as if it was the first time he had noticed me. It was really more of a glare. He walked over to me and said, “I’ll be damn if I am going to do the leg work for a rookie reporter!” He wadded the script into a ball, tossed it into the trash can, and walked out of the radio station.
I was told to retrieve the story from the trash and to read it on the air. I did but it felt dirty and wrong. It WAS a big story and Carl SHOULD have been the one to read it but I did as I was told. I needed the $1.50 per hour I was being paid.
I didn’t last long at the radio station. Commercial radio was not for me. I was very disappointed that my second encounter with Carl ended so badly since he was one of my role models and a hero, of sorts. That second encounter was almost as bad as the first.
My first encounter is much more shameful.
I was in high school and my buddy, Davy Swearingen, and I were driving through Millville when we spotted Carl driving toward the Paper Mill.
“Follow him. Let’s see where he is going.” I told my friend.
I can’t remember the specific time but it was 1971 or 72. The big story on his afternoon radio program for the past several weeks had been about “streaking”. If you aren’t old enough to know what streaking is, let me explain. A “streak” occurs when you take off your clothes and go running at a rapid pace through a crowd or public place. It was big in the early 70’s. I really don’t know why. It seems a bit silly now.
We followed Carl to International Paper Company when he pulled into the free public car shower in the front of the paper mill. Davy pulled beside him.
I jumped in the back seat, pulled down my pants and pressed my rear end against the side window while my friend honked the horn.
As soon as we got Carl’s attention, I screamed, “Go, Go, Go!” We drove away very fast.
We were laughing so hard, we didn’t notice Carl pulling away from the mill wash and falling in behind us.
He chased us through neighborhood streets and all over Millville until he finally gave up. We figured he was after our tag number. We were scared silly as if we had done something terribly wrong. It was just a joke for Christ’s sake!
That afternoon, we huddled around the radio with a bunch of our friends. I ran a microphone to an 8-track recorder because I had a feeling that we would be included in his afternoon news report. We knew it was too good for Carl to let it go. Carl did not disappoint us. I remember everything he said because of the 8-track recording.
Carl started his show as usual by reading the arrest logs and other “off the wall” stories from around Panama City. Then he read a story about the arrest of a streaker on the campus of the University of West Florida in Pensacola.
When that story was over he said, “Now, let me tell you what happened to me today.”
I doubled checked to make sure the tape was recording.
“I was at a local car wash this morning when I looked over at the stall next to me and saw, pressed against the window, the biggest pair of white buttocks I have ever seen.”
Well that got a big laugh. He really emphasized the “tt” in the word “buttock” and that made it even funnier. All my friends were hooting and holloring so much I could barely hear Carl. For the record, my buttocks, back then, were not all that big. Today, he would have a valid point.
He continued, “I couldn’t tell if the butt-tocks belonged to a man or woman.”
More laughter. The tape continued to roll.
“Now here is the strange part, folks,” The laughing stopped. Everyone was quite. “In order for the passenger to have had those butt-tocks in such a position, his face must have been in the lap of the driver.”
Now that, according to my friends, was very, very funny.
Oh my! I painted a picture in my mind of what he had just said. Dad Gum! How dare he imply…! What was he trying …? That’s just not true….! Where does he get off trying to make people think….! That’s was not funny!
Carl embellished the story just to give it more style, his style. He was determined to have the last laugh. He knew we would be listening. But, in the end, it made me a folk hero around my friends and family. The 8-track tape was a big hit at parties. I became known as “The Boy who mooned Carl Gray.”
When I worked with Carl a few years later, I never brought it up. Little did he know the butt he chewed out at that radio station in 1973 was the same one he saw pressed against the window of that old 1963 Chevrolet Impala. Somehow, I just didn’t think he would appreciate knowing me that way. Plus, I had become a serious radio newsman and admitting to such pranks would lower, even more, my standing with Carl.
Radio news in Panama City more or less died when Carl died. Others came along but none reached his status. Today, radio newsmen are pretty much side kicks for radio personalities. Few are taken seriously. They don’t make the rounds, harvest the news, develop sources, dig up the details, and provide perspective and wisdom to their reporting. And, unlike Carl, they can’t seem to find the stories that the traditional media leave behind. Carl was truly one of a kind.
I have been called “Carl Gray Junior” several times in my career. I am not sure why, unless it is because I grew up in the same Millville neighborhood as Carl. Maybe it’s because I have never really been bothered too much by angered elected officials or others who think we should sit silently and not report the news when it relates to them. Carl wasn’t bothered by it either. No matter, I consider the nickname a term of endearment.
It was a privilege to know him and work with him for a brief moment of time. His style was a bit unorthodox, but completely unpretentious.
If in heaven, God allows use of the internet and Carl is surfing the web and stumbles across this blog and discovers that I was the buttocks in front of the prank those many years ago, I hope he will forgive my teenage impertinence. I simply wanted to put his slogan to the test. “If you don’t want to make the news, just don’t do it.” I am happy to report that it was more than just a slogan. I did it and I made the news.
Carl Gray Audio Files:
Carl Gray Intro (.mp3)
Carl Gray Joke (.mp3)
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About Me
The life of any News Director is stressful most days... so, when the weekend rolls around I find myself on the back roads of our bountiful and beautiful part of the state looking for bluegrass music, interesting things to do, and, of course, fried chicken. I will try to share some of these "finds" with you. There are a thousand stories left to be told or simply remembered. Don't expect to find them all here; maybe just a little stroll down memory lane or maybe a little skewed insight into topical issues.
Larche Hardy,
News Director
All My Entries:
- Nashville Bluegrass at IBMA
- Marty Raybon and Georgia Bluegrass
- Curse of the Acoustic Guitar
- A Millville Hero
- Bluegrass at BAMA JAM a hit!
- Bird watching not a bore
- No Poet Laureate
- Let the Bluegrass begin
- Hurry Spring
- Alabama’s Highway 52
- Cell Phone Interuptus
- Bellying up to the bar
- Resolutions are Doomed to Failure
- Bah-dad-gum-Humbug
- A hunting we will go!
- Hot Stuff!
- My new camo hat… A bargain at $34
- The Road Trip
- “If you don’t want to make the news, just don’t do it.”
- Hostage
- Not a Cat Person
- Hollywood - Here I don’t come…
- Found: a cure for the blues…
- It won’t be long…
- Not Enough Historical Markers, I say…
- Evolution takes many forms
- Revisiting Vernon
- All I know is that it’s hot…
- I Love Slocomb
- The Not-So-Casual Traveler
- The Casual Historian
Other News13 Blogs:
- The Casual Historian - Larche Hardy
- Derby Girl - Enocha Van Lierop
- The Newby - Jessi Chapin
- Gainesville, Georgia's All American Girl - Tuquyen Mach
